She's Got Him
by Sparrabeth
Summary: When Damon returns from being tortured as an Augustine vampire, Elena is there to make sure he survives his own demons. Thanksgiving fic. Rated M for mild lemon in chapter 1 and lemon-lemon in later chapters.


Elena was sprawled out on the couch in the Salvatore mansion reading. The fire was burning low in the hearth and the room smelt of fresh pine. Just a few days ago, she got her boyfriend back from that freaky place where they'd been torturing him mercilessly and she was beginning to question her college choice, but that was all in the past. For now, she was happy to be where she was, with Stefan home and memory-filled and Damon upstairs, safe and sound.

Just then, her book was lifted directly up and out of her hands, breaking her reverie. She looked up to see her handsome boyfriend, smiling down at her and doing his eye-thing.

"Hey," Elena said with a smile.

"Hey back," Damon responded. He crossed the room so he was standing across from the couch that she was resting on.

Elena sat up and tossed her legs over the side; she nodded her head next to her, gesturing Damon to come sit down. He obliged. He sat down in the corner of the couch and Elena curled up next to him, draping one leg over his, resting her head on his shoulder and placing her hand gently over his heart.

"How are you doing?" She asked, concern painting her features.

"Oh, you know me, Elena," Damon responded, brushing her shoulder with his thumb.

"I do know you," She said, tilting her chin up to look him in the eyes. He looked down at her and his typically light-blue eyes seemed deep-blue in the dim fireplace lighting, "And that's why I'm worried. You hide your hurt to protect me and yourself, Damon, but things are quiet now. Please tell me."

"I'm fine," Damon said, he leaned down and pecked her on the lips, "Thanks for your concern, but cut it off. You're brow is furrowed, that's how you get wrinkles." He joked and Elena smiled.

"I'm a vampire, Damon," She said, "I don't get wrinkles."

"Mmm," Damon said, once again doing his eye-thing, "Eternally sexy." Elena smiled and slowly scooted up; she twisted her body so that she was straddling his lap.

"You want to talk about eternally sexy?" Elena teased, running her hands up his torso to his chest, "Look at you! For 164 years-old, you're keeping it tight."

"Yeah, well, I work out," Damon joked and Elena giggled. Then, her innocent, laughing eyes turned wicked with impure thoughts. She leaned forward and placed her mouth right next to his ear, meanwhile grinding her hips against him. She felt his arousal growing and smiled.

"It seems as though your body isn't the only thing that's tight," She caught his earlobe in her mouth. He grunted in appreciation. She pulled away and looked him in the eyes, her hips still grinding against his hardness, "How are those pants feeling?"

Damon loved the way Elena could work him over. She knew exactly what he was feeling. The increasing pressure of his arousal against his jeans was getting painful. It'd been a while since they'd made love because of Elena being off at school, Silas torturing them all, Stefan being back, etc.

"You're such a tease," Damon grunted, leaning forward to connect their lips. He put his hands on her waist and lifted up the hem of her shirt. Elena broke the kiss.

"You love it," She whispered breathlessly.

"I love you," Damon responded. Elena let a giddy smile crawl across her cheeks. She raised her hands to his cheeks and brushed her thumb against his lips.

"I love you, too, Damon," She replied. Then, she closed the gap between their lips yet again. She needed to be closer to him, so she slid her tongue across his bottom lip, asking for entry.

He granted it and their tongues collided in a fury of passion. Damon wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him. She felt his erection push against her inner thigh.

The feeling drove her insane and she began undoing the buttons of his shirt eagerly, her fingertips brushing over the newly exposed flesh.

Just then, Damon got a flashback to when he was being held and tortured as an Augustine vampire. Elena's loving fingers turned to knives and a pressure rose to his chest. He felt a constriction in his throat that prevented him from breathing. He began hyperventilating and Elena's face turned into that of his torturers. He quickly pushed her from his lips and struggled to get out from under her.

Elena was confused. One second, her boyfriend's kissing her and the next he's coveted in fear, trying to throw her off him. Then, it hit her, PTSD. She has had the same feeling many times in her life; she knew how destructive it could be, especially to Damon.

"Damon, listen to me," Elena said, hoping her voice didn't betray her. Damon continued to struggle under her, but she kept her voice calm and caught his face in between her hands, "Listen to me. You're here, in our home. You're with me, Elena, you're girlfriend."

He was still freaking out, but her voice seemed to calm him a little.

"You're safe now," She stroked his hair comfortingly, but her voice shook a little bit out of worry, "Damon, te—tell me about when we first kissed. Not when you were dying, but the other time. Do you remember?" He finally met her eyes, and when he did, he began to find his voice.

"On—on your porch," Damon whispered, struggling through the words as though he were drowning, "I told you that if I was going to feel guilty about anything I would feel guilty about kissing you." Elena smiled reassuringly.

"That's right," She stroked his hair again, "Just breathe…breathe. Now tell me the about the first time we slept together."

"You were so upset, and we danced," Damon said, "You pushed me up against the wall and ruined my favorite shirt." Elena laughed in relief; he was returning to his normal self.

"How about when I first told you that I was in love with you when I wasn't sired to you?" Elena asked. Damon thought about that night for a moment, and finally he fell forward, resting his head on her shoulder. Beginning to breathe evenly, a tear rolled from his eye onto her shoulder, "I'm not sorry that I met you, I'm not sorry that ever since I've met you I've questioned everything." She raised his head to look him in the eyes, "I'm not sorry that I'm in love with you."

"How did I ever get a girl like you?" Damon asked, fully calm again.

"Not honorably," Elena joked. She pecked him on the lips and got off his lap. She curled up under his arm.

"Ugh," Damon grunted, annoyed, "We still have to go to Caroline's Thanksgiving party, don't we?"

"Oh, shit!" Elena shouted, jumping up, "That's today isn't it? Oh my God, come on!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door, "We're late already! Is Stefan coming? Get Stefan."

"BABY BROTHER!" Damon yelled.

"What?" Stefan responded, descending the stairs.

"We're on our way to Caroline's party, and you're coming," Damon said. Stefan opened his mouth in protest, but Damon cut him off, "Nope, you're coming; you need to get out." Elena ushered Stefan out the door and grabbed Damon by the hand again.

Together, they all walked to the Camaro. Stefan got into the backseat, Elena the passenger seat and Damon the driver seat. Elena leaned over to Damon and kissed him on the cheek.

"What's that for?" Damon asked, starting the car and driving down the driveway and onto the street.

"For being alive and safe," Elena responded, settling down in her seat. Damon smiled and Stefan glared ahead from the back.

Because of Damon, Elena would have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.


End file.
